


Glad for the Lesser Loss

by leoandlancer



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Sap, First Kiss, Hux is slow on the uptake, M/M, Protectiveness, Supreme Cockblocker Snoke, awkward confessions, shy Kylo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 07:00:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5958040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leoandlancer/pseuds/leoandlancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Initially disgusted by Snoke's pet in the mask, Hux begrudgingly accepts that Kylo Ren can be of use. Then permits that Kylo can be a little nice to have around when there's danger. Then eventually can allow that Kylo's not all bad, and can, in fact, be good to have around. Then is deeply disgusted to discover that he's become attached, just in time for Kylo Ren to start hunting for a map. Hux doesn't examine his own feelings, but he's starting to suspect he's got a lot of them for Kylo. Written for the prompt: "Enemies to lovers when they discover how useful they can be to each other."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glad for the Lesser Loss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thatviciousvixen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatviciousvixen/gifts).



In Hux's experience, familiarity didn't always breed contempt. He didn't need to be familiar with Kylo Ren to feel contempt, it was his first impression when they met. Hooded and masked, he wore Snoke's approval instead of an insignia, instead of a uniform, instead of his own _face_. Some quiet creature with no identity or history or thoughts of their own, Kylo stalked the halls of Hux's ship without purpose. Snoke's weapon, his hand beside Hux, watching him.

“Find a planet, one suitable for our designs,” Snoke told Hux, “Take whatever ships you require from the armada.”

Hux froze in anticipation. They were about to build Star Killer Base. Snoke was finally ready to unleash the technological superiority that Hux had envisioned.

“Kylo Ren will guide you.” Snoke said, and Kylo Ren stepped into the holofield beside Hux.

“Yes, Supreme leader.” Kylo Ren's voice behind the mask was flat and cold.

Hux merely nodded, his excitement, his triumph, the work of years, tasting sour in his mouth. He would not allow the glory of his accomplishments to be shared by anyone. Yet The Supreme Leader saddled him with his little _pet_. He kept his face rigidly impassive as Snoke's hologram faded.

“How exactly will you do that,” Hux demanded softly as they walked, side by side towards the bridge. Kylo Ren would never walk a step behind him, as though he didn't understand Hux's status as a general. “How will you guide me.”

The mask turned only slightly in a side glance. “You doubt the Supreme Leader's plans?”

“Only your abilities,” Hux hissed, “I have studied hundreds of planets which could be suitable. I've sent scouting parties, drones, probes, I have control of those planets which the Supreme Leader might choose.”

“He won't choose, I will know what's right,” Kylo Ren said.

Hux swallowed his rage. Snoke's pet would be called away eventually. And in the meantime, he had work to do. He gathered his fleet, designated his troops and his supplies and ordered courses to be plotted, called in his active scouting parties and ordered them to rendezvous en route.

The first planet they visited was deemed unacceptable by Kylo Ren, and while Hux privately agreed, didn't offer any comment but recalled his fleet and moved on. Again and again, Kylo Ren deemed planet after planet unacceptable. They moved on and on, weeks of fruitless, frustrating travel.

“This one,” Kylo Ren said.

Hux had noticed Kylo never seemed surprised by his approach. He hadn't turned to look as Hux came to stand beside Kylo at the star screen, looking out at their most recent planet. It was mountainous and shining with snow in the bright sunlight of it's new day.

“Hardly ideal,” Hux replied, checking his report on the planet.

“Build it here,” Kylo said.

“Why,” Hux felt hot with frustration. This planet was near the bottom of his list of potential locations. There were too many things out of it's favour to make it really passable.

“You don't need to know why, you need simply obey,” Kylo said softly.

Hux felt the hair go up on the back of his neck. It took a few moments before Hux calmed himself enough to speak, “Do you really think your authority supersedes my own?”

“Yes,” Kylo turned, that black and metal mask levelled at Hux. Again the voice, soft, with that odd metallic flanging quality that made him seem more machine than man.

Hux left him standing and went to make preparations to land, communications to be sent and ordered scouting parties organized. He kept the fury of that single, softly spoken syllable burning in the back of his throat for days.

 

* * *

 

Weeks later, when it had become apparent that this planet was suitable enough for their purpose, Hux's excitement to begin construction was still tainted by that brief exchange. He knew having this planet was a triumph. He knew that. But Hux hated the private knowledge that he would never have chosen this planet on his own.

“The planet's occupied,” Kylo broke into Hux's quiet contemplations one day.

Construction had been going on for weeks. It was going well, faster than anticipated. They hadn't encountered any significant delays or set-backs. They also hadn't encountered any sign, trace, or hint of life on this entire snow-bound planet.

“Why,” Hux stood upright, rubbing his eyes with one hand and straightening up from his war-table and it's crowd of glowing maps, reports and schematics. “Do you suppose such a thing. None of our scouts have seen any trace, none of our probes ever found any indication.”

“They live underground, a network of tunnels that run across the entire planet,” Kylo said flatly.

“Tunnels,” Hux said. He looked down at the jumbled, bright lines on the table, and scrolled through the glowing schematics until one came across his war-table. He flicked away the other plans and maps. “How large are these tunnels?”

Kylo hesitated. Was he thinking? Getting ready to lie? Asleep? Hux hated that mask.

“Some are enormous,” He said at last.

Hux flipped the schematic for the Thermal Oscillator up into a hologram for Kylo to look at. “This will take a month or more to excavate. Unless you think a space underground this size already exists.”

Kylo tipped his head slightly, apparently studying the schematic and then nodded slowly, “It exists.”

Months saved, months of dirty, dangerous blasting and excavations. The Oscillator was the heart of Star Killer Base, the place where the power of a sun could be tamed and bound and directed outwards. Hux felt goosebumps reel down his arms at the thought. The space to build it was already here. Perhaps this planet was ideal.

“Phasma will oversee the native species suppression and deportation, their possible use as a contained work-force,” Hux mused, walking thoughtfully around the war table. His head was already jumping ahead, plans and benefits and new timetables stacking up neatly.

“No, eradication,” Kylo shook his head, still studying the huge hologram of the Oscillator.

Hux looked up in mild surprise, then froze. Kylo's hood was down, piled around his shoulders, and for the first time, Hux saw a fringe of dark hair curling out from the back of the helmet. He'd never seen so much of a sliver of Kylo Ren's skin. It was easy to imagine him as an menacing, mostly silent automaton, roaming the halls of their new base of operations, prowling like a caged animal. Seeing curly hair, too long, much too long for a military position, surely, his mind hurriedly supplied, was startling. There was a human under all that black. A human who got bed head and had a favourite food and got itches on their back they couldn't reach.

“Eradication?” He asked, forcing himself to focus.

Kylo nodded, the bright lines of the war table reflected and glittered off his mask.

Hux opened his mouth to argue. The Order needed workers who could be made to tunnel, make bases on other planets, this race could be of use once subjugated. Hux frowned, he hated to throw anything away.

He informed Phasma of her mission minutes later. Kylo stood silently at the war-table, apparently ignoring them both, and Hux gave his Captain full discretion to use whatever means she deemed necessary to purge the planet of it's natural inhabitants.

As always, Phasma was perfectly capable and diligent in the execution of her duties.

 

* * *

 

Phasma had warned him. He'd given her permission to speak freely and she'd used it. She'd told him that it wasn't safe, that they were encountering surprising levels of resistance in the native species. That the effort to eradicate them was proceeding slower than she'd expected. That there were too many tunnels, and too many hiding places, and searching and clearing them was still underway. It wasn't safe, she stressed patiently, for him to go down into the tunnels.

Hux ignored her, absolved her of responsibility for whatever happened and went down into the tunnels. He wanted to see the cavern where they could build the Oscillator, the heart of the weapon he was creating. The very centre of what would put the First Order rightfully in it's place at the peak of galactic power. He wanted to stand there, where so much power would be bound and tamed and set to his purpose.

The attack came swiftly, and silently, and three of his personal guard had died between one step and the next.

He'd been looking up, relishing the huge, clean cavern, the tunnels where the white forms of his troops stood vigilant, symbols of his control, his authority. He'd heard a shout, and the sound of falling bodies, and time suddenly slowed.

A long, thin hand, bone-white and tipped with claws like iron nails, wrapped around his arm and yanked him down and sideways. He had a sudden, terrifying image of a huge, trisected set of jaws, each edged with savagely pointed teeth, lunging for his face, an instant realization he was going to die. Then there was a flash of red and a shriek, and the thing snapped it's three-sided mouth shut an inch from his face as it fell aside in pieces. Kylo Ren was suddenly beside him, too close, his black cloak and robes flying, the whirling, crackling red lightsaber blazing with heat.

Hux wrenched the thing's severed hand from his arm, feeling fabric tear. He felt time jerk back to speed. Felt the swirl of Kylo Ren's cloak sweep over his legs. Ren wasn't supposed to be down here, he had refused to accompany them, why...

The troops were snapping into action, taking aim, forming up defensively, and they were much, much too slow. The creatures were long bodied, six-limbed, hairless and silverfish-quick. They darted up the walls, over the troopers, large enough to force a trooper to the ground. They could tear arms from from bodies, bite off heads in one quick snap.

“Eradication,” Hux agreed, drawing his blaster.

“I told you,” Kylo stayed next to Hux and raised his free hand. Three of the creatures were wrenched into the air, screaming and twisting.

Hux whipped his blaster up, stance, form, aim, fire. That was easy, this was old training he'd perfected in childhood. Two creatures died in mid air, and Kylo cut through the third.

Hux didn't bother firing at the creatures while they flitted from floor to walls to ceiling and back. Their movements were too quick and erratic for shots to be accurate. They were only marginally more vulnerable when they attacked, or if they crouched, huge and boney, on a downed trooper. He stood shoulder to shoulder with Kylo, while his guard formed up defensibly at their back. Again and again Kylo wrenched the creatures into the air, and Hux fired, neatly blasting jagged heads from twisting bodies.

It took minutes, only minutes that felt eternal, but Hux and three troopers finally shot the last flailing creature Kylo held aloft, and it was over. Hux was panting, his hands trembling slightly with adrenaline, and straightened up slowly as the surviving troopers mustered up. He could see three that were missing arms. Beside him, he heard Kylo's lightsaber power down, and he felt his shoulders relax entirely.

“General,” Phasma's voice was tight, her shining armour spattered with blood. Hux hadn't noticed her in the chaos, but she stood tall and safe before him now.

Hux looked up at her a little blearily, then marshaled himself. “You were correct, captain,” he said coolly, “Oversee your troops.”

She acknowledged the order stiffly and turned. He heard her bark orders to the troopers, and heard them acknowledge and instantly obey.

Hux stood silently watching the survivors drag the creatures and the dead troopers away to be burnt. The magnificent cavern was scorched with blaster shots and drenched in blood. The stinking, smoky heart of his most prized ambition.

“You need medical,” Kylo was still at his side.

Hux glanced up, bemused, but Kylo turned away abruptly, and began prowling the edges of the cavern. Annoyed, Hux was caught off guard when his right arm abruptly blazed with pain, his right hand warm and sticky with blood inside his glove. “We're heading back,” He told his last remaining guard.

The medical staff cut away the sleeve of his shredded great coat, jacket and shirt and peeled off the scraps of fabric to reveal six vicious gashes around his arm. He'd likely done that to himself, he reflected, as the doctors, white faced and on edge to be operating on their general, cleaned the wounds. He'd felt something tear when he'd yanked the creature’s severed hand away. It hadn't all been his clothes.

“You'll need a blood transfusion,” The doctor said, shaking his head as he measured Hux's blood pressure for the third time.

“Use synthetic,” Hux said automatically, he'd had to say this a lot. “I'm O negative.”

“Bad luck,” The doctor remarked.

He declined anaesthesia, and when the wounds had been cleaned and dressed, changed into a fresh uniform and quietly returned to his war-table.

 

* * *

 

They'd known the earthquake would come, it's arrival had been narrowed down to a window of a few days. They were tearing the crust of this planet apart, of course there would be seismic activity. The base had been built to withstand the power of a star, Hux wasn't concerned about it.

He was more concerned about their subterranean creatures. They were dying out slowly, and sullenly, taking more troopers than Hux had forecast they would loose in blasting and excavations. More troubling was that they had taken to the surface in a last effort to avoid Phasma's purge. They had attempted to breach the living quarters, command posts and out buildings. Hux ordered all doors to be blast-sealed, traps to be set around the perimeter, patrols doubled, and for Phasma to continue her purge of the tunnels. They didn't need to hunt them if they were on the surface. If this freezing planet could annoy Hux when he was inside wearing several wool layers, it could certainly kill off the naked, straggling native population.

“It's happening,” Kylo snapped. He swept into Hux's command room with a whirl of black robes, and the blast doors sealed themselves behind him.

Hux looked up from the war-table, images of freezing, six-limbed monsters in his head. “What?”

Then the floor jerked away from him.

Hux gasped, tucked his arms up protectively and slammed into the wall. The room crashed into darkness and the lights of the war table flickered and died. He heard something crack, and a hideous tearing, wrenching noise somewhere deep in the guts of the base. He slammed down onto the floor, and lay frozen as the room jerked and shook around him.

“Earthquake,” Hux panted as the violent, jerking movement of the floor slowed to a tremble, “You meant the earthquake.”

Silence. Then a creeping, horrible, unnamed dread. Kylo Ren had always answered him, even just to remind him he didn't have to.

Hux tucked his head down for a moment, his forehead touching his fists, then looked up, “Kylo Ren.” His voice sounded steady in the darkness, a miracle in itself. The lights were dead above him, and the window along one wall as a flat press of snow and shattered tree branches, the wind outside was slowly grinding down the snow from one corner.

Snoke's pet warrior, the jedi-killer, he who sent Luke Skywalker, scourge of the Empire, killer of Darth Vader running. Kylo Ren, the monster in human form that could tear things apart with his mind and block blaster shots with a half-cracked laser sword. If he had died in an _earthquake_ , under Hux's supposed command, _outside of battle_.

He pushed himself up, furious at the very idea, the ignominy of trying to tell Snoke that.

The floor heaved under him and he dropped sideways, feeling giddy with terror and confusion. “Kylo Ren,” Hux snapped, fury made his voice sharp.

Nothing, the dim light that edged in through the clear corner of window showed his entire command room cocked at angle, one wall cracked, his war-table smoking slightly. The blast doors, he noted sourly, eyeing them, wouldn't open until there was enough power to disengage the magnetic seal.

Then Hux looked down, and stopped breathing. Kylo Ren lay crumpled on his side, one arm out-stretched, palm up, his cloak around him like a bird's broken wings.

“Ren,” Hux called again, his heart in his throat. He staggered on the uneven floor and caught the edge of the war table, it was hot to the touch and he flinched away.

Another tremor shook the floor, and Hux swayed on his feet as he made his way over. Kylo Ren lay perfectly still, and didn't move as Hux knelt beside him, pushing him onto his back. He was surprising heavy, and solidly built, and wore no more armour than Hux did. All this came as one mild surprise after another.

Hux couldn't feel breath when he pulled his gloves off and put one hand flat on Kylo Ren's chest. He hesitated a moment, then reached up and found the release catches on either side of the black helmet.

He was prepared for ugliness, for battle scars, for age and deformity and a reason for why a man would wear a mask everyday. He was not prepared for the pale face, or for dark, curling hair that spilt over Hux's hands and through his fingers. The helmet fell from his hand unnoticed. He hadn't been prepared for this. He had not, in his entire association with Kylo Ren, ever once supposed the man might have freckles, or cupid's bow lips, or have big ears and have soft hair and be horribly, disconcertingly young.

Hux swallowed. He started to pull his hand away from Ren's head, his fingers trailing slowly through thick, dark hair. Then wasn't sure why the gesture became a gentle petting, stroking Ren's black hair away from his lovely face. His eyelashes were long and slightly matted, Hux noticed dumbly. He threaded his fingers gently into Ren's hair again.

Then he snatched his hand back as Ren moved slightly.

“You're alive,” Right, that was why he'd come over here, why he'd knelt beside the most powerful weapon currently in Snoke's arsenal, pulled his helmet off and started _petting his hair_. “You weren't moving.”

Ren seemed slightly dazed, blinking up at Hux was huge, soft dark eyes.

Doe-eyed killer, Hux thought stupidly, and Ren's mouth twisted slightly.

“You,” He said slowly, quietly, “Took off my mask.”

“Making sure you were dead,” Hux assured him.

“I was running, and off balance,” Ren said. Without the mask, it was easy to see that he was actually annoyed, his face and voice were wonderfully expressive.

“You were also correct,” Hux assured him. He'd been running? To warn Hux?

Ren moved abruptly, and Hux flinched back, their heads nearly bumping as Ren sat up, suddenly on edge. Another tremor shook the floor, and the entire room canted a few more degrees. They both crouched slightly, staying low for a few moments before the tremors past. Ren bit his lip as the floor jerked more violently. Colour was starting to come back to his cheeks.

“You're staring,” Ren said quietly, as the floor steadied.

“We're trapped in here,” Hux countered, looking away, furious with himself.

Kylo looked up at the blast doors. “Ah yes. Six-limbed monsters, starving and freezing in the snow several blast doors and corridors away,” He said.

Hux looked around sharply, but Ren was facing away. If that was actually sarcasm Hux was hearing, there was going to be repercussions.

“And the entire base is in disarray,” Hux said, feeling uncharacteristic querulous and suddenly, and entirely unexpectedly, self conscious.

“And you were doing so well,” Kylo Ren climbed carefully to his feet, one hand on his head. He swayed slightly.

“Are you...” Hux began asking, then shut his mouth with a click. He didn't care. Snoke's weapon wasn't dead and it wasn't his fault he'd been hurt.

“Fine, thank you, general,” Ren said shortly. He stood at the blast doors, one hand flat against the heart of the magnetic seal.

“We could be stuck in here for hours,” Hux realized, climbing to his feet.

Ren seemed to hesitate, as if considering it. Then Hux took an involuntary step back as the red lightsaber cracked into life, filling the dim room with red light and dancing black shadows. Hux swallowed painfully, remembering the creature in the cavern falling to pieces. Wondering how quickly you died if you were cut in half. Wondering if Kylo Ren killed everyone who saw his face.

Then Hux flinched at a shriek of metal and the room was suddenly dimmer. The crackling was suddenly muffled by a deep, metallic groan. Hux opened his eyes to see the red light saber buried to the hilt in one side of the huge doors.

“You can cut through blast doors,” Hux said, trying not to let his voice sound too weak.

“Eventually,” Ren replied, his face was still turned away, but Hux though he might be smiling slightly.

 

* * *

 

Repairs took time, some of the structures had been completely destroyed and others torn or damaged. The earthquake had greatly exceed their predictions and the death-toll was much higher than Hux was prepared for. However, it did seem to be the last major disaster for the six-limbed creatures, who had been deemed purged from the planet by Phasma.

Fortunately, almost unbelievably, the tunnels turned out to be intensely strong. They honeycombed the entire crust of the planet, especially in a wide, glorious band around it's equator. Bringing order to the twisting borough was much faster than excavating it out themselves, and once repairs and improvements on the base had been completed, work on the weapon accelerated. Living quarters, command posts, workshops, all spread out neatly on his new war-table, precinct after precinct of neat, carefully maintained order. More troops arrived every day, more workers, more supplies. The base was taking shape under his feet all around him.

Yet as the base took form, gained order and purpose and drive, Kylo Ren became erratic, loosing control, lashing out. He attacked officers, destroyed equipment, his scouting missions were turning up longer and longer incident and casualty listings.

Snoke was pleased with the progress on the base, encouraged construction to go on at it's frenetic pace, and he had given Kylo Ren a scouting mission.

A simple scouting mission, looking for a map.

Hux had thought he'd felt Ren tense beside him, something about the set of his shoulders stiffening. He'd dismissed it, but that had been the end of Kylo Ren's aid on Star Killer Base.

A map, Hux thought sourly, he'd taken to spending hours at a time at his war-table, glaring at a section of stars in some far flung part of space, and the one missing piece. Kylo Ren we being sent looking for a map. The map that was driving him to attack officers and destroy equipment. A map that meant he spoke to Hux as though they hadn't... Been working equitably for some time.

Hux flatly refused to give the quest the same care and attention he splashed out for the final stages of Star Killer Base. He lent Kylo Ren troops, allowed him to take Phasma when he wanted, apparently, the highest possible casualty rate, and ignored the internal damage reports. The greatest weapon ever built was hours from completion, his crowning achievement as general.

If he could finish Star Killer, if he could just show Snoke it's power, they wouldn't need the stupid map. Snoke wouldn't need Ren to be seeking it out. Kylo Ren could go back to the way he had been before.

He took solace in the first, glorious chance to fire the weapon. Standing on the freezing platform over the neat, rigid lines of his troops with his heart pounding. He wasn't sure if he'd offered the weapon, and the choice of target for it's strategic value, petty desire, or a strange, unexpected urge to protect Kylo Ren from the pressure Snoke exerted over him. He didn't examine this uncertainty. He watched the power of a star bounding out towards their enemies, warming his face with it's glorious light.

The only time he was able to use it.

The girl who humiliated Kylo Ren, the traitor, Kylo Ren's own father, a Wookie and a handful of X-wings were all it took to destroy it all.

Hux felt the same calm fall over him, the same sense of time slowing. He stood before Supreme Leader Snoke and took his orders and expected to feel the swirl of Ren's cloak against his legs. Felt slightly annoyed that Ren wasn't beside him, too close, shoulder to shoulder in the current crisis.

He had minutes to find Ren, and the same terror he'd felt after the earthquake made his heart ache and his breath come short. They could pin-point Ren's location on the ship Hux appropriated, he'd insisted Ren be chipped for tracking as a safety precaution. But Hux was uncomfortable, because he knew where Ren would be, knew it like he'd heard Ren call for him. He forced himself not to examine that either.

Blood making pockets in the snow, and the broken black wings of his cloak and robes lying torn and ragged. Kylo Ren's pale, lovely face slashed open.

“Get him onboard,” Hux snapped.

The planet was coming apart under their feet, the guards carrying Kylo Ren to the ship swayed and balanced like seasoned mariners.

Their ship gathered itself and lunged for space as the planet seemed to rush after them, blasting outwards. All those tunnels, all those hallways and living quarters and hours and hours of work and toil and planning and effort. His oscillator, the heart of the entire weapon, torn apart by a single pilot who had actually _flown inside to blow it apart_. And apparently flown out again. And then flown away. Hux felt flat with fury and shock. How could you possibly defend against something like that? Where could they possibly recruit a pilot like that? How did you even train pilots to do that?

“You aren't required to oversee this,” A doctor told him.

Hux blinked, he was sitting in the tiny cabin claimed by the medical team, staring at the slash across Ren's face. He blinked again.

“What,” Hux said, unsure what he'd just been told.

“General, if you are required elsewhere, you don't need to be here,” The doctor said. She was unsure whether to speak respectfully, or with the gentle tone that all doctors use to speak to the family of someone under their knife. She landed roughly halfway between the two.

Hux looked down stupidly. His hand held Ren's, and he wasn't sure when that had happened. “There is nowhere I need to be,” Hux said heavily, and with perfect honestly.

The doctor opened her mouth, shut it again, and shrugged. Three doctors were working together on Ren. Removing his cloak, then robes, and then the lighter, softer clothes he wore under those just revealed more bruises, contusions, cracked bones, burns, more tears in his white skin, more blood.

“He'll need blood,” One doctor said, tying her fifteenth stitch in a row. Blood was pooling on the table, sliding steadily over Ren's skin, onto the floor. Who knew how long he'd been bleeding like that.

“I'm O negative,” Hux heard himself say.

There was a pause, as the doctors looked at one another. This wasn't a medical ship, he knew, this was Kylo Ren's ship, with it's huge wings and raptor profile. It would not, he was positive, have synthetic blood, it probably hadn't had a first-aid kit onboard. The doctors were apparently trying to play rock-paper-scissors by eye contact to determine who had to lance blood from Supreme Leader Snoke's General of the First Order to save Supreme Leader Snoke's Human Weapon and Fucking Disaster.

“That's an order,” Hux said without feeling. If it would save time, he could pull rank for something as stupid as this.

 

* * *

 

There was an amazing amount of blow back when you destroyed five inhabited planets and moons. Hux had been expecting that, but he'd been expecting to be standing on a super weapon when it happened. Having fired the weapon, and proven the First Order's intentions, then suffered such a catastrophic loss, the sympathies of most planets swung due Rebels. Planets that had been firmly, and happily under First Order rule were starting to buck, other planets that hadn't embraced the Order were starting to fight. The Rebellion ranks were swelling, no doubt, Hux's attack on the Republic in one hand, and the unprecedented victory from the rebels in the other.

In the hours after the Rebel's attack on Star Killer base, Hux's fleet was broken up. Piece by piece, his troops and work-force and technicians and engineers all sent to planets struggling regain order. His glorious troops, lines of rigidly correct white uniforms, sent away on petty suppression missions.

Hours after the doctors had connected Hux's veins to Kylo's, Hux was light headed, tired and sore. Kylo lay like a dead thing, silent and pale and Hux read report after report, trying to attribute his panicked pulse to dropping blood pressure, and not to the report's contents. Hux was watching the First Order falling apart on his tablet and waiting for Kylo Ren to open his eyes.

He jerked in alarm when Ren woke up, exploding into consciousness with a gasp, one hand flying up weakly as though to defend himself.

“The planet collapsed,” Hux said, his heart racing and loosing no time in dragging Kylo into his concerns, “And you're half dead.”

“I only had one good half to loose,” Ren groaned, clutching his side.

Hux ignored him, “And I can't find Phasma. Thirty six planets are in conflict over First Order rule. Fifty six other planets under rule are starting to schism politically as an overwhelming majority of their population suddenly sympathize with the Rebels. Our planted politicians are beginning to look suspiciously like what they are. Twenty have already disappeared or been assassinated. A few planets who have shown rebel sympathies in the past are sabotaging their First Order relay stations. Also a couple dozen Stormtroopers mutinied, stole a Finalizer and are en route to deliver it to the Rebels at the moment.”

Ren turned his head to look at him, the slash across his face was stark against his pale face.

“Don't say a word about my troops,” Hux took a breath and rubbed his eyes. He wasn't sure when he'd slept last. No mater how well or how cleverly he deployed the resources he could lay hands on, there wasn't enough, and there was no word from Snoke.

“You're... Giving me blood?” Ren's voice broke through his exhaustion.

“You carelessly lost all yours,” Hux sat back and blinked slowly, “I seem to recall children's space magic stories about how force comes from the blood. I would have thought you'd be more careful with yours.”

One of the doctors came in at the sound of his voice, asked Ren a few gentle questions, checked them both, and kept the transfusion going.

“Where are we going,” Ren asked when they were alone again.

Hux reflected again that getting used to the mask meant Ren had lost a lot of the natural control people had over their face and voice. He rarely heard people sound unrestrained in their anxiety. He didn't reply.

“Hux,” Ren went to sit up and grunted in pain.

“The doctors pieced your skin together from scraps and I'm half dead from blood loss because of you,” Hux said without much feeling, “Stay down.”

“Tell me,” Kylo said, his voice tight. He was sitting up slightly on his elbows, stubbornly refusing to lie back. Hux could see him shaking.

“Just,” Hux stopped and rubbed his head, then gave a vague half shrug and sat back helplessly, “You can see into minds.”

“I can't,” Ren said shortly.

“Really Kylo Ren, be my guest,” Hux sighed.

“I _can't_ ,” Ren said again, more sharply, his voice was shaking.

Hux blinked at him, trying to rouse himself. Ren's hands were fisted in the sheets of his meagre bed, his arms shaking as he stayed stubbornly propped on his elbows. His eyes were shut, his mouth a hard line.

Hux looked down at his lap. He'd sat by Ren's bedside all this time, he'd never thought of him as being weakened until now. He thought of his blood in Ren's veins, maybe they weren't just children's stories.

“We're not going anywhere, we're drifting,” Hux's heart skipped a beat as he formed the next few words. “There's been no communication from Snoke.”

Ren lay back, unfocused eyes bright as he stared up at the ceiling.

“I haven't told the crew, I've been ordered to bring you to him but I,” his fists clenched, and the lance in his arm throbbed, “I don't know where he is.”

“I do,” Ren said, then flinched, a huge, whole body startle that nearly had him sitting up again. “No, I don't.”

“Which is it,” Hux said, trying not to get anymore worked up then he was.

“I should be able to,” Ren said slowly, “But I don't.”

They stayed in silence for a few moments, both gazing at the tiny red line that connected their left forearms.

Ren suddenly moved, his right hand reaching for his left arm and Hux exploded into fully animated fury.

“Don't you dare,” Hux snarled, catching Ren's wrist and yanking his hand away from the needle. “I watched you bleed out right here, I've been sitting here waiting for you to wake up and expecting you to _die._ You are not,” He snarled, squeezing Ren's wrist with all his diminished strength, “Going to compromise yourself in one of your stupid, reckless, violent tantrums. Not again.”

Ren stared at him, those huge, expressive dark eyes wide. Hux had left his seat to crowd into Ren's space, one hand on the mattress, trying to bully him back down onto the bed. Ren was half sitting up again, and hadn't backed down.

“Let go,” Ren said in a low voice.

Suddenly, Hux realized their faces were very, very close. He set his jaw and ignored his suddenly squirming self consciousness, and he didn't let Ren go. “You're healing,” Hux hissed, “Don't you _dare_ compromise that.”

Kylo Ren had spent the better part of fifteen years hiding his facial reactions behind a mask, Hux thought, as he watched Ren's gaze flick from Hux's eyes to his lips and then away.

“Let me go,” Ren said again.

Hux slowly relaxed his grip and sat back. He felt slightly light headed and dizzy, and watched as Ren lay back, wincing in pain.

A few quiet minutes passed, Ren looking up and away from Hux, and Hux absently chewing his lip and looking down at the white skin of his left arm. There was a bruise forming around the needle. Another doctor came in, checked Kylo over, pressed her lips together in disapproval as she found two torn stitches, and fixed them while neither man acknowledged her.

“There's an abandoned headquarters a day or two away. I'm going to put us down there,” Hux said after the doctor had departed.

Ren didn't reply. He looked more broken now, with his neat stitches and rapidly healing cuts, than he had lying bloody and half dead on the snow.

“Ren,” Hux said after another few moments. He hated this, watching Ren breaking apart in front of him, because of him.

“You're right,” Ren said quietly.

Hux let his head fall back, resting against the uncomfortable chair back. “Not that I mind hearing you say that for the first time, long overdue I might add, what exactly am I right about?”

Kylo shook his head, “I am compromised.”

His eyes were shut and his hair was wet at the temples. Hux leaned forwards again, hung his head and propped his elbows on his knees. He was not, he thought firmly, going to watch Kylo Ren crying, he stared at his own hands, dangling loosely between his knees.

Ren's hand was open, palm up on the sheets on the edge of his bed, and in an impulsive move that Hux didn't try to think about, he took it in both of his. Kylo's fingers closed around his, and they stayed like that, both light headed and dizzy, for hours.

 

* * *

 

It was an old base, one of those that the First Order had claimed shortly after the fall of the Empire. Even in the days of the Empire this planet was little more then a relay station. A desolate place of sinuous, rocky land snaking in paths through wide stretches of choppy, impossibly deep water. It was foggy, and cool, and what scruffy vegetation clung to the water-beaten rocks on the shore was impossibly green to his eye, with rusty red branches and tiny white flowers.

The skeletal remains of the Hux's diminished fleet landed, days after the destruction of Star Killer Base, totally exhausted, and set to work. Whoever had been the last to leave the planet decades ago had followed all the protocols, and withing a within a few hours the base was perfectly habitable. The generating stations were back on, the towers sending and receiving, the buildings warming up, the command station coming online, defensive shields active, and medical bay sterilized. There were caches of food and fresh water, fuel and medical supplies and stacks of old, mostly useless currencies. The repair and cleaning droids had been stored well, and set to work quickly once they had been checked and updates.

Hux was grateful at least, to be out of Star Killer's climate. It was cool here, but he didn't need the multiple wool layers, or the gloves and padded boots. He could walk the thin, curving length of their island in a few hours, and did usually every day. He didn't think much as he walked through the fog, listening to the waves on either side of him. It was a pleasure not to inspect his own thoughts.

He stood at his new war table in his new command room and took in the reports from all corners of the First Order's rule. Things were still difficult, conflicts and dissent from one end to the other. It was taxing his powers as a tactician to move resources from one desperate location to ones even worse off, but things had stopped getting worse. Phasma had survived the destruction of Star Killer Base, and after she was healed, and deployed, began calmly cranking through uprisings, conflicts and suppression missions. Her reports were as tacit as always, but increasingly positive, increasingly hopeful. Other commanders of other fleets were reporting less bloodshed, less need for blockades, fewer dissenters making a break to join the Rebel forces. Things were stabilizing, and over burdened and stretched thin as he felt, Hux was in command again, and could see a way out.

He looked up as Ren opened the door without knocking, and immediately pushed his hood back.

“Well?” Hux asked as the door shut behind Ren.

Ren shook his head, looking furious, and ran a hand through his hair, brushing it off his face. It was too long for military life, Hux reminded himself sternly, impractical. The slash across his face was healing quickly, though he'd refused to have it surgically corrected.

“We have control here,” Hux said. They'd been here for almost two weeks, and Ren still hadn't fully recovered his abilities. There had still been no word from Snoke.

Ren had wanted, at first, to hide among the skeleton crew who wouldn't know his face, wouldn't care who he was. Hux could understand that without the connection to the Force, as long as Hux's blood was still in his veins, he felt powerless, useless. He'd flatly denied Ren the chance to dress up as a technician to hide in plain sight. So instead, Ren donned the familiar mantle of his dark robes, and in lieu of his lost helmet wore a deep hood. Most people wished to avoid looking at his healing scar and ever present glare anyway, and preferred to receive their orders while gazing respectfully at a spot a foot or so above Ren's head. It was catching, Hux's officers were doing it to him now.

Hux was getting incredibly tired of dealing with a crew of vague ceiling inspectors.

“I should have it back by now,” Ren said, tugging at the neck of his robe. It was one he'd had onboard the carrier they'd fled the planet on, and Hux had wondered if it was an old one, from when he'd been younger. It seemed smaller across the shoulders.

“We have the luxury of time,” Hux said, aware that this was hardly helpful. “You can heal.” How did you tell someone it wasn't their fault that the space magic that made no sense wasn't flipping the right card in their mind?

Ren pushed open one window, and cool misty air poured into Hux's stuffy command room. Everything in this base was ancient, right down to window on hinges and chairs stuffed with organic materials. Hux didn't actually mind. Ren didn't seem to either, as he sat carefully in one of the huge, soft chairs by the window.

“I never thanked you,” Ren said minutes later. He was staring out the window, absently rubbing the inside of his left arm.

Hux closed the last of his reports, all tentatively hopeful, and straightened, powering down the ancient table. “I didn't expect you to loose your connection to the Force from it,” Hux said honestly, he paused, then went to stand at the open window, looking down at the scruffy green trees and the iron grey water beating slowly at the rocky shore.

A few minutes later, Hux quietly went on, “Don't thank me. I still would have, even if I had known, or suspected you'd loose some of your powers, even temporarily. I still would have made the same decision.”

“I might not have died, if you hadn't,” Ren said, he was sitting with one foot on the seat, curled protectively around his injured side.

“I wouldn't have taken the chance,” Hux said flatly. From here, the little flowers on the green trees looked star-bright through the fog.

“You probably should have. I'm nothing without the force, just a tool for it's use,” Kylo said quietly, the words sounded like something he'd decided long ago, or told often. “But that wasn't why I...”

Again, Hux noticed the over expressive voice, Ren's hesitation choosing his words when he spoke. He'd spent so many years hiding inside that mask, outside it he didn't carry the same confidence.

“I wouldn't have taken that chance,” Hux said again with certainty. “I'll take responsibility for the loss of your powers before Snoke if I must. But I made the right choice.”

Ren stood up carefully, one hand on his side, to join Hux at the window. “Thank you.”

“I could save you,” Hux said, the words felt distant, “Even though I lost Star Killer.”

“I'm sorry,” Kylo said softly.

They were side by side at the window, shoulder to shoulder, looking out the open window at the mist over the water, at the white lines of wave peaks.

Suddenly Hux realized that he was glad that things had come out at they were. That even the loss of Star Killer Base wasn't as bad as it could have been. Then a thought that he'd been avoiding struck him, tearing at his mind with jagged red teeth. It was new and horribly powerful inside him, and made his gut tight, forced his hands into fists. He had to take a slow breath and consciously unclench his fists before he could put his hands on the windowsill to lean forward slightly.

“I could have lost you,” Hux said quietly.

Ren went still beside him.

“I almost lost you. I could have found you dead in the snow, then faced obstacles and challenges and Snoke alone, like before,” Hux had been ignoring that thought for days. Trying to avoid it. But it was always there, the fear waking him at night. “If I'd had to chose, I'd still make this choice. I'd still be right here.”

Slowly, moving with tremulous care, Ren's bare hand rested on Hux's. “You'd choose to be here, with me?” He said softly.

Hux looked dumbly at their hands on the windowsill, “Yes.”

Ren's fingers slipped under his, tugging his hand, pulling Hux to turn and face him. It had annoyed Hux no end in the beginning that Ren was taller than him, looking up into that blank helmet had been one of the most frustrating parts of his day. But like this, there wasn't such a difference, and he didn't mind it anyway.

Carefully, Hux reached up and gently touched the dark edges of the healing scar across Ren's face. “You're alive,” He said softly, holding Ren's hand in his and standing too close, far too close for any reasonable explanation.

Ren kissed him. It was soft, and warm, and Hux wasn't sure why he hadn't seen it coming but wasn't surprised. But he felt the tension in his shoulders ease, and he shut his eyes and pressed up into Ren's mouth, their joined hand gentle together.

“I can't read you,” Ren said, breaking the kiss and taking a slow, shaking breath, “I never could, but I can't tell, I can't,” He met Hux's gaze, “Can't read what you want. Tell me.”

“Take me to bed,” Hux said, feeling heat flashing through him, breathing around the hot beat of his heart in his throat. The first time he'd issued Kylo Ren an order.

Kylo was more gentle than Hux could have imagined, and maddeningly careful. He stripped Hux of his uniform in pieces, kept stroking him, kept him off balance and distracted, kept kissing him, cupping his face in both scared hands. Hux was reeling before Kylo even laid him down on his bed, panting and arching, wanting more. Ren was over him, around him, with his hands on either side of Hux's head, gazing down at him with naked awe and shy desire, biting his lip. Couldn't hide his expressions, those big brown eyes showed everything he felt.

Hux buried both his hands in Ren's hair, sat up under him to kiss him, hungry and needy and impatient, and Ren pressed him back down, keeping their mouths together, hot and wet and greedy.

“Careful,” Hux remembered, nearly mindless now, but worry and guilt needed him into speech, “Your side, your scar...”

“Doesn't hurt,” Ren muttered, his eyes shut, his mouth on Hux chest. He bit gently into the skin around Hux's nipple, and groaned when Hux tugged his hair.

“Don't stop then,” Hux gasped.

Ren was a deliciously heavy, solid weight above him, holding him in place, his hands hot at the back of Hux's knees, gently pressing him open. Again, that maddening gentleness, the slowness and care and Ren's mouth and hands driving Hux to distraction. He was near begging when Ren finally took him, would have begged, he would have gladly said anything Ren wanted him to. Instead he lay panting, open mouthed, head tossed back and arching under Ren's hands. He gasped and bit his lip and called out useless, nonsense words as Ren gently, carefully fucked him open, pressed him down, anchored him.

“Hux,” Ren gasped his mouth on Hux's shoulder, “Show me, how do you like...” He trailed off, nipped at Hux's skin, and wrapped one hand around Hux's hard length.

Hux swore, breathless and overwhelmed and shaking, but got one of his hands over Ren's, laying his fingers between Ren's, tightening his grip, showing him how he liked to be held. “Hard,” Hux gasped, “And slow.”

Ren leaned up and kissed him, and Hux groaned and shuddered and kept his free hand tight in Ren's hair, holding him close.

He came minutes later, with Ren grinding hard and hot inside him, their joined hands moving together. It surprised him, overwhelmed him and slammed him abruptly into wordless, mindless ecstasy. Hux moaned, clutching weakly at Ren's shoulders and panting, his head tossed back, arching into the touch, his body going taught and white hot with pleasure.

Ren swore softly above him, and though a haze of scorched clean senses, Hux felt him trembling, stilling above him, staring down at him.

“Do it,” Hux gasped, arching his back and pulling on Ren's arms, “Ren please.”

Hux cried out when Ren finally came, weak and soft bodied and still trembling, he felt Ren shudder, his body going taught, the long muscles in his arms going hard under Hux's hands. Hot and slick and full inside Hux and it was too much, far too much feeling, too much power and too much savage, unnamed emotions clawing at his chest. He felt Ren trembling above him, his head bowed, dark hair trailing on Hux's chest, and felt him, suddenly, completely relax.

Gently, he pulled Ren down afterwards, bullying Ren into place over him, his weight on Hux's chest, bearing him down into the mattress.

“'M heavy,” Ren objected weakly, muttering into Hux's hair and struggling to get his hands under him.

“You're not going anywhere,” Hux insisted, he kept both arms around Ren, pulling them more firmly together.

Ren nuzzled into Hux's hair, “Yes general.”

“Finally you show some respect.” Hux smiled, then went on more soberly, “I'm not sorry you lost your powers.” He traced his fingertips over the long lines of Ren's back.

“Good thing something came of it,” Ren's teeth were on the shell of Hux's ear, nibbling and licking. He was smiling, Hux could feel it.

Hux sighed, suppressing his own smile, and squirmed slightly, retaliating by putting both teeth into Ren's collar bone and biting in, sucking and licking. After a while, Ren nosed at Hux's cheek, and Hux turned his head, and met Ren's mouth in a sweet, soft kiss that kept them both sleepily, and happily occupied.

The room was nearly dark before Hux conceited to let Ren flop onto his back beside him.

“Your side?” Hux sat up slightly, looking down at Ren lying naked and sweat-damp and messy and smiling with his eyes shut.

“Hurts,” Ren said without opening his eyes.

“Sorry,” Hux murmured, tracing the outside edge of the horrific bruise around the bowcaster wound. At least the stitches had held, the gash in his side was still closed.

Ren took Hux's hand, and raised it to his mouth to press a kiss into his palm. “You hated me, before.” He murmured, his lips brushing on Hux's palm as he spoke.

“Yes,” Hux admitted, “Then hated myself for liking you, then missed you,” Hux tugged his hand away from Ren's mouth, lent up carefully and kissed him briefly, “Then I thought you were dead, and I didn't care about anything else.”

Ren's hand stroked gently up Hux's arm, “We could stay here,” He said, his voice so soft Hux hardly heard him, “We could run.”

His thumb traced over the tiny red scar on Hux's left forearm.

The thought hit Hux suddenly then, his heart jerking into running pace. He stared at Ren open mouthed, taken aback. A series of futures began piling up in his head. They could run. Powerless, Ren meant nothing to Snoke, Hux could get lost, find a place for them to disappear, they could leave, they could be alone, together.

“You'd loose,” Hux began, reeling, staring at Ren in the dimness of the room. The light from the window was pearly grey, the three moons would be overhead by now.

Ren shrugged, that wonderfully expressive face open with fear and apprehension and so much hope. Big dark eyes that looked steadily up at Hux. “You'd loose your station.”

“That's not,” Not the same thing, Hux almost said, but it didn't mater.

“We're not going to be together otherwise,” Ren said softly, tracing his thumb softly back and forth over Hux's skin.

Hux looked from him to the place on Ren's arm where the lance had gone in. Dumbly, he lent forward and kissed Ren hard.“We are going,” he said, a little breathless as he pulled back, “To be together.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank the great and lovely Daishar for being a good friend. I called her while she was at work and she got the waitress to cook her orders and stood listening to me explain this entire story before assuring me I wasn't bat-shit crazy. She's great and I probably would have burred this without her encouragement.  
> This work, and it's twin prompt fill for thatviciousvixen, will be the first things I have ever posted online, so any positive feedback you could offer is very much appreciated! This got a little, a lot, a-lot-much out of hand and I loved writing it, and I hope you enjoyed reading it. I'll be posting more from now on, so check back for more evil space boyfriends being assholes in love. I always picture them getting wrecked but I always end up writing fluff and sloppy kisses I'm not mad and I'm not tired.  
> Thank you v much to thatviciousvixen for a couple of awesome prompts, oh man I really hope you liked this and the other one oh man.


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